The Reason
by yorkybar
Summary: Harry loses something he never knew he had. Warning: This is Slash! Don't read if you 're not prepared.


**The Reason**

The year of Harry Potter's graduation from Hogwarts was, many agreed later, one of the most eventful that any had ever known. However, very few knew the truth about the events surrounding Voldemort's defeat, even those who were present at the time, and even fewer knew how one of his followers had defected and helped save the world by setting his former master up. To give the seventh years the opportunity to finish their schooling, and begin their adult life, with at least some semblance of normalness, the final confrontation was skilfully arranged to occur over the Easter holidays. Spies inside Voldemort's camp manoeuvred their supposed Lord until he showed up to confront Harry Potter, thinking that he would finally achieve that which had obsessed him for the past seven years. The defeat of the Boy-Who-Lived.

However, things did not go according to his plan. And in his final moments he realised what had been done to him, and who must have been responsible. As he searched the ring of faces around him, his eyes finally fixed on Severus Snape where he was standing with Draco Malfoy, and all could read the word that escaped his lips. 'Traitor'.

Afterwards Harry went over to thank Snape for his help. Not that he wanted to have to thank the Potions master who had tormented him through his Hogwarts years, but he couldn't go without facing up to the fact that, without Snape's help, he wouldn't be free. While he generally disliked the man, and was confident that the feeling was mutual, he was, nevertheless, grateful.

'Sir?'

'Yes, Potter?'

'I just wanted to thank you for all your help in setting this whole thing up. Without your help from inside the Death Eaters, I don't think that this could have happened. I owe you a lot.'

'No, Potter. You don't owe _me _anything.'

And with that Snape gave Harry one last look, for good measure, and turned to walk away, his cloak flaring out behind him. Harry was left facing Draco Malfoy, who looked like he didn't quite know what to do with himself. And, in a way, this was true. Harry realised that his still being alive meant that he had never taken the Dark Mark. A spell had been created that crippled, if not killed, most of those bearing Voldemort's branding. Snape was one of the few unaffected, as he had been specially protected for obvious reasons.

Harry opened his mouth, desperately searching for something to say. 'I…'

'Don't bother, Potter. After we finish school, we never have to see each other again. And I for one am looking forward to that day.'

Malfoy turned and left, in a manner quite reminiscent of his head of house. Harry wondered if Slytherin gave deportment lessons to its students so they could all make dramatic exits with very little effort on their part. He didn't get far with this train of thought however, as he was suddenly tackled from behind by a very tall redhead. Unfortunately for Harry, it wasn't the woman of his dreams, but his best friend, Ron Weasley.

'Did you see it, Harry? Did you see what happened? It worked! Wow! He's gone and you're finally free. Just wait until we get back to school and tell everyone about what happened! …'

Harry could still hear Ron in the background but was able to shut out most of it, while keeping his ears open for anything actually requiring his response. It was a useful skill he'd developed over the past seven years, and he took the opportunity to look around the room. While there were no great losses on Dumbledore's side, not everyone had escaped unscathed from the blast of poser that had occurred in the final moment. Harry could see McGonagall helping a rather dazed looking Professor Flitwick, and Fred and George were attempting to stop Neville's nosebleed but, typically, were taking advantage of the opportunity to try out a few tricks on him.

'Harry. Ron.'

Both boys looked over as Hermione Granger walked over to complete their trio.

'Come on. Dumbledore has the portkey ready to take us back to Hogsmeade.'

They all went willingly, eager to return and recover from the day's exertions. Although it was the Easter holidays, all of Dumbledore's Army and the Order of the Pheonix, along with many more members of the student body, had taken up residence at the school since it was one of the safest places in the wizarding world.

That night there was a great celebratory feast in the Great Hall, with even the Slytherins joining in. As Harry looked around, he was pleased to see so many happy faces and he realised that a great weight had been lifted, not only from his shoulders, but from everyone's hearts, and he no longer need to worry about his destiny to defeat the Dark Lord. He was free of his troubles. As these thoughts were running through his head, his gaze landed on the Slytherin table and he mentally sighed. Well, not free of _all _his troubles. One individual would always go out of his way to cause him problems. Malfoy.

As he looked, Malfoy lifted his eyes and returned Harry's gaze directly. Almost like he knew Harry had been watching him. The look in his eyes went straight to Harry's gut, and Harry saw a myriad of things that had changed, but he couldn't quite work out what those things were. Harry was fixated and couldn't look away. For what felt like an age, the two of them stared at each other across the room, willing the other to be the first to break eye contact. Suddenly, Malfoy seemed to realise what he was doing and shifted his gaze to Pansy Parkinson, sitting on his left. Harry felt strangely bereft and at the same time jealous. For that short time he had been the sole object of Malfoys attention, and while that honour was something he had never actively sought, it was something he always missed immediately after it's loss. However, his attention was immediately stolen by the happy faces surrounding him and he soon forgot about the strange feelings he had experienced.

Their final term at Hogwarts soon began. Because of their approaching exams, the seventh years only had few revision lessons before being given study leave and so they rarely saw the members of the other houses, excepting meal times. None of the Gryffindors worried about this too much, since they were all perfectly content with each other's company and there were many jokes made about how much more peaceful life was without having to put up with the company of Slytherins in Potions. Harry couldn't decide why this lack of contact between houses troubled him so much. Surely he didn't miss sparring with Malfoy? The competition between the two of them wasn't amongst Quidditch and sneaking around Hogwarts after dark as one of his favourite things about school, but maybe he'd just become used to it. Even at meals, when all the houses were together, everyone was so focussed on learning all the things they were supposed to know, nobody hung about to chat.

All too soon, exams were upon them. Naturally the weather outside was glorious and there were many times Harry was sitting inside trying to remember the ingredients of one potion or another when he wished he could be out on his broom. But then, after what seemed an age, but in reality was only really a couple of weeks, it was all over. His time at Hogwarts had come to an end. Harry had never really thought about having to leave and suddenly found hundreds of things that he had to do. He visited all his teaches, minus Snape, and said heartfelt 'Thank you's', and spent lots of time visiting Hagrid in his cabin and he didn't even forget to go and say 'Goodbye' to Moaning Myrtle. And then it was the final breakfast of the year. Harry walked into the Great Hall and a strange feeling that something had changed settled over him. He put this down to finally having outgrown the location of so many adventures, perhaps it was a good thing to be going out into the great wide world.

Everyone had a greeting for him as he walked to his seat at the Gryffindor table – Seamus, Dean, and Neville were already there along with Lavender and the other girls, Ron and Hermione had come down with him from the common room. The meal got underway and everyone was reminiscing about all that had happened to them over the years, of course the biggest topic of conversations were the events of Easter.

A noise from above caught Harry's attention and he looked up to see the owls arriving with the day's post. Although there was no sign of Hedwig, a school owl flew and dropped a letter in front of Harry. Wondering who it was from, he picked it up, noticing the fine quality of the paper.

'Who's writing to you, Harry?' queried Ron from his left.

'I don't know. I'm not expecting anything.' Harry replied, becoming curious as to what the letter contained. There was no writing on the outside, except for in the top right hand corner where the word 'Private' was neatly printed.

'Aren't you going to open it then?'

Harry considered this. He finally answered, 'No', surprising himself as well as everyone else at the table, before shoving the item in question into his pocket and continuing on with his meal. He didn't stop to think about why he'd done this, but his friends all did, eventually coming to the conclusion that Harry had fibbed when he said he didn't know what was in the letter, and that he wanted to keep it's contents a secret. They didn't hold this against him though because Harry's secrets were often of far greater import than anything that touched on their daily lives.

Later on, after breakfast, Harry excused himself from the common room and returned to the seventh year boys' dorm, where he shut the curtains on his bed and took out the letter. Breaking the seal, he opened out the parchment, Harry scanned the writing of the sheet in his hand. It wasn't a hand he recognised, but it was elegant and the letter appeared perfect, evenly spaced lines, no mistakes – like perhaps it was a neat copy of something that had been slaved over in order to make it perfect, and so, shrugging, Harry settled down to read the contents.

_Dear Harry,_

_By the time you read this I'll be gone and I don't expect I'll ever have the joy of seeing you again. And I mean that. Joy. Because that's what it's been for me, even though you never knew. Initially I did want to cause you trouble, but then over the years it became little more than a bad habit and the only reason I really carried on was in an attempt to keep myself in your mind. You'll never understand how sorry I am for all the pain I've caused you in the past. And I just wanted you to know, that I didn't mean any of it. And to tell you the truth of our past._

_Firstly. Snape wasn't the traitor that Voldemort was referring to at the end. It was me. I had been feeding my father false information for months, in order to set up the final confrontation. Snape wasn't trusted enough, but the son of one of the highest placed Death Eaters? He would never betray his family, surely? But I did. And you're the reason why. Snape is the only person who knows this, except for Dumbledore, but of course, he knows everything. And now you. Of all the things I've kept from you, this is the one thing that I had to tell you. I couldn't go on with my life, knowing that you were somewhere in the world and thinking ill of me. And so this is my confession._

_I never hated you. _

_My feelings have changed irrevocably since our initial meeting. You upset me when you rejected my friendship, but I came to admire you, and in the end, to love you. I know that you never asked for my love, but you have it anyway. I want you to know this, and remember me. I've gone where I can start afresh. There is nothing left for me as a wizard, the whole world has painted me in the image of my father, without looking to see if I am a different person._

_So, goodbye, Harry Potter. I just wish that once I could have said your name to your face,_

_Yours eternally,_

_Draco_

When Harry realised who the letter was from he couldn't think straight. It wasn't the revelations that caused him pain, but the knowledge that he was gone. Draco had left. Harry remembered the feeling that morning that something had changed, and he suddenly knew what that feeling was. It was the absence at the Slytherin table of that familiar blond head. That head he thought he despised, but that he always looked for. He felt a sudden emptiness inside and, unknowingly, tears began to slowly run down his face.

Draco Malfoy had broken Harry Potter's heart. Without even trying.


End file.
